Scottish Highland Cattle And The Red Tavern

The dogs and I drove north through the high peaks region of the Adirondacks and, as planned, continued north on route 30 past Paul Smith's toward Malone. We were headed for the Scottish Highland cattle farm in the pine forest. But I wanted to let the dogs out for a break before we arrived, so I found a trail head for a state run horse riding forest. The dogs thought it was just fine, a good place to poop and run around a bit. The photo above is Wren and Wally, intrepid Adirondack explorers.

Wally, Casey and Fergus head on down a horse trail.

Wren gets tired quickly. "OK Dad, I've secured the area and scouted for bears. Can I go back in the car now and get some sleep?"

Wally, Fergus, Seamus and Casey in the dappled sunshine and pine scented air. Life is good.

Anyway, I arrived at the cattle farm and a young man and his little girl walked me into the woods to meet the cattle. I once owned my own herd of Scottish Highland cattle and loved them dearly, though I was intimidated by their giant horns.

Scottish Highland cattle are an ancient breed of long haired, long horned hardy cattle who can thrive in frigid climates and on poor forage. They are even tempered and easy to tame. Even so, I got nervous as we walked towards them. I noticed that the farmer's two dogs refused to enter the pasture. They knew better.

This young heifer was very sweet and curious. Her horns are just getting started.

The big fellow above is the herd's main bull. He's magnificent but I kept wondering what we'd do if he got angry.

The bull was reportedly the tamest animal in the herd. Indeed, he came right up to have his head scratched. Unfortunately, he didn't want us to quit scratching his head and became quite insistent. How does one refuse?

The farmer admitted that one day, the bull swatted at a fly and accidentally stabbed him on the inside of his thigh. The doctor later warned him that one more such incident would likely prevent his fathering any future children.

Another youngster. They sure are cute. If only they were polled. I pretty much decided that as with Yaks, Scottish Highlands just have horns which are too big for my comfort. I need a breed which is safe and cuddly. I am an old man with no one to help should I get myself on the wrong side of the giant horns. So I'll keep checking out cattle breeds.

The cattle farmer told me about Red Tavern, pretty much the only building on the long, lonely road through the Adirondacks from his farm to my farm. He said that one can stay there for $15 a night and at 8:00 they turn off the generator and hand you a lantern. He said it's a historic landmark and I must stop in for a beer.

I almost drove past it but then stopped and snapped the above picture. A couple of old guys sitting on the picnic table under the canopy invited me inside and were happy the old tavern was getting some attention.

I walked inside and ordered a beer but then quickly said, "Oh no, I left my wallet in the car. Cancel the beer." An old guy in the corner (almost hidden behind the post) bought me one and I chatted with the bar tender and the only other customer for a while. Just as I was leaving, a couple of bikers came in.

There's a game room adjacent to the bar room, but no one was inside. I didnt' ask about the generator/lantern story, but the bar room certainly had electricity. On the other hand, I suppose the upstairs might not be wired. I'll check farther into it some day.

I left the Red Tavern and drove the Red Tavern/Port Kent Road along the high lands which look out over the northern Adirondacks. This road leads directly to within a couple of miles of my farm. It's a fascinating and beautiful world up there.